Into the Desert Night
by Yamitron
Summary: Just before the memory arc, the Thief King is confronted by Yami Bakura before the plan is set in motion. Rated for language. Slight Geminishipping.


**[[A/N: **Hello there, all. The always-lovely sarcasticrocker86 and I wrote this beautiful Geminishipping treasure today while bored. She wrote the part of Thief King, I wrote Bakura. If you enjoy the writing, be sure to check out either of her accounts sarcasticrocker86 or GreatSardonicismKing and read her others. Enjoy. **]]**

The King of Thieves was in one of those moods. Caught a week before in the midst of his thievery, he'd only just escaped from the prison and returned to his hut a day before. His back still ached irritably from the numerous whippings he'd endured, and he was _not_ in the mood to be fucked with.

But that would never stop Bakura. It just made sense to him to pay his most important pawn a little visit before the game began, and of course make sure he was mentally weak enough to succumb to the possession that needed to happen. Knowing the thief like the back of his hand, all Bakura needed to do was go through a process of elimination to narrow down where he may be lurking. The hut was his fourth stop, and so he arrived with annoyance tingeing his smugness. Dressed in modern day clothes and his billowing black trench coat, he folded his arms and leaned on a wall near the doorway.

"Tough night?" He asked in his low gravelly voice, the first sound he made since arriving at the miserable hut.

Any other person would have jumped or panicked. Of course, the Thief King was used to being on the constant alert. Snapping his head quickly toward the voice, his hand instinctively folding over his knife. There was a moment of silence, eyeing the figure up and down, deducing that this was _not _a normal idiot visitor stumbling upon his hideout or looking to get a bounty, and as such, it would be foolish to attack. "…How did you get in here," was his first question, ground out slowly and deliberately.

"Like you. I walked." Bakura snorted, smirking at him, his white hair in his face and obscuring bright crimson eyes. "Haven't been here long, mmn?" He hummed, eyeing the place with his upper lip slightly curling. "Doesn't look as lived-in as it should be."

His eyes narrowed at the choice of words. "…Should be?" he questioned, fist tightening around the hilt.

He only flashed a grin. "So quick to violence, eh Thief King?" Bakura chuckled.

"I'm quick to end people that annoy me, if that's what you mean."

At this, he laughed a loud, dark laugh. "Ah, yes you are…" He stood upright, glancing around outside again. "That's useful."

The Thief King was quick to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine at the word 'useful'. He had heard that before. He couldn't place where, but he had. Then again, there were many things about this man that seemed familiar. Knowing that his question would be ignored, anyway, he remained silent.

Bakura smirked. "I'd almost forgotten how muscular you are. Physically imposing. Any recent injuries?" The 'that I need to work around' he wanted to add was omitted.

"Forgot how—How do you _know_ me!" he demanded finally.

"How does anyone know anyone, really," he hummed, intentionally giving a frustrating answer. "You didn't answer my question."

"You haven't answered any of mine!"

"I don't need to." He rolled his eyes. "You know the answers, if you use your brain."

"… My brain?" He asked, obviously confused.

"…. You _do_ have one, don't you?" He shook his head, shifting his weight to one foot.

The Thief's eyes narrowed. "Shut up. Answer my questions and I'll answer yours. And by answer, I do_ not_ mean with a cryptic response."

"Then phrase your question differently and we'll see."

"Who. Are. You."

"Your oldest friend~" Bakura grinned. "I've known you for years upon years. Bakura's my name." He answered with a dark grin flashing, knowing the answer would irritate him more than placate him. He took a step forward toward the thief. "Now, have you sustained recent injuries?"

The Thief King snarled. The bastard was still messing with him! Fine, he would satisfy his curiosity. He might learn something. "…A few whips and burns. Nothing more."

Bakura growled in annoyance. "Of course. Ugh. Whatever, that can be dealt with." He murmured, mostly talking to himself. "Done something stupid, I expect. No matter. Your horse is fine?"

He snarled again. "He's _fine."_

"Good." Bakura stepped still yet closer, a ghostly pale hand reaching forward to take the ring hanging around the thief's neck. "Hnn…" He hummed, examining it, feeling it both over-flowing with forgotten souls and completely barren.

The Thief growled, immediately trying to step back away from the unwanted touch of _his_ hard earned-Item.

Bakura looked up at him and glared, those crimson eyes flashing in the dull light reflected in the ring. "Hold _still."_ He growled. "I'm not going to take it or anything. _I_ have no need for it. _You_ on the other hand…" His eyes fell back to the object.

His lavender eyes narrowed. "What interests do you have with it, then."

Bakura lifted his head, smirking at him. "I intend to help you, my dear thief. What is it you want most in this world?"

He glared back at him. "If you're such an old friend, you should know."

"I want to hear you say it." He chuckled, stroking the triangle of the ring with a thumb gently, lovingly.

The Thief King growled. He was no parrot. Still, he was an impatient man, and arguing about this would get them both nowhere. "….Revenge."

"Good boy." Bakura grinned, holding up the ring again. "And this and I," he offered it to him, "are the means to your end. So I'd stay on my good side if I were you."

His lips cured in a hateful snarl. He didn't like this guy, he knew that much. Snatching the Ring back, he ripped it from the cold fingers. For Ra's sake, he'd never seen someone so pale. He looked dead.

The only response to this was the loud, short, dark laugh he so frequented, arms folding across his chest. "Fiery. You really are perfect for this."

Another shiver. Damn. "…If you're trying to hire me, I'm no mercenary."

"Hire you? Aw, you think this is optional." He smirked condescendingly. "Sorry to disappoint, but you have no say in this matter."

"…Excuse me."

Bakura clasped his hands behind his back, walking forward and slowly circling him. "Have you not figured it out yet?"

The Thief King swallowed, turning his head to catch the other when he could. "Evidently not."

Bakura stopped directly behind him, eyeing the quickly healing whipping scars on his back. He extended a hand to brush cold fingers against the marks; in part to feel the extent of the damage, and to watch him jump. "…Start thinking."

He hissed, but out of sheer will, he grit his teeth and kept still. "… This has something to do with The Dark One…"

He kept on touching the old scars, eyeing him with a smirk. "Heh. Very good…"

The Thief's meaty hands clenched, biting his lip at the icy touch. "Stop that," He said, squirming.

"No," he said simply, sharply scratching him. "Keep thinking out loud," Bakura ordered, circling again.

"Ngh-!" His shoulders stiffened. Still, he obeyed. If this was about Zorc, he had no choice. "…You're one of his servants?"

"HAH! Hardly…" He smirked, subtly taking the knife from him as he returned to face the tan thief.

He didn't notice. His hands seemed to go numb, as the rest of his body did. "Then I give up. Enlighten me."

Looking down at the jagged blade, Bakura twisted it idly in his fingers. "… Do I feel familiar to you, Thief?" The corners of his lips twitched.

His eyes snapped up to the crimson eyes. "…Perhaps vaguely," he conceded.

"Heh. I never was good at things like this on my own," he said to himself, pulling his own Millennium Ring out of the loose shirt he wore, the object slightly glowing as it was being used. "No, I'm not a mere servant of the dark god," his teeth flashed in that almost malicious grin.

The Thief King's eyes grew wide as his eyes laid upon the Item. "…How…"

"Oh, you'll go to any means necessary to get that revenge you so thirst for…" He almost purred, eyes locked on the thief's. "Steal… Kill… Sell your very soul…~"

That made the Thief stumble a bit. He had to be lying. There was no way in _hell_ he could… His feet tumbled as his hands moved to attempt to grip something. Something real, something to prove this wasn't a dream.

Bakura let him fall, fisting the hilt of the knife tightly in his hand. He reached forward and tightly fisted the thief's hair with his other, yanking his head backward. "I, dear boy, am your inescapable future. I am what's left of your mangled soul. I am the Dark One in human form. I am your salvation and your greatest enemy… So listen the fuck up." The red eyes burned through the thick, white bangs, locked to the soft lavender ones.

The Thief's eyes blazed with hatred. But, try as he might, his rough white locks were trapped in the grip. He was much stronger than he looked. Hissing, body quivering in his struggle, he growled. "It seems… I can do little else."

"Good." The corner of his lips pulled upward in a sort of horrible half smirk, Bakura's tongue poked through his teeth as he studied the for now incapacitated Thief. "Any misconceptions of freedom you feel you have, abandon them now," he said barely above a whisper, the knife gently pressing into his unscarred cheek in an unspoken threat. "You belong to me, now, and you will do as I say. Is this understood?"

The hatred that burned in the lavender eyes were ones that could have sent chills down a volcano. But, seeing as this man was already a living icicle, he knew it would have little effect. Worse, he was trapped, utterly. When this new stranger told him he had lost his freedom… he believed it. He could not do anything less. The Ring against his chest told him his soul was already bought and paid for. It was no longer his own. Still, uttering the words to this loathsome man… "I… I…" He stammered, unsure he was even _capable_ of uttering words such as that.

"For our purposes, we are one in the same, you and I…" He tilted his head at the slight stutter, eyes narrowing. He had almost forgotten how naive he was. How willing to sink into darkness after selling his soul… It was almost nostalgic.

He shivered, swallowing. Suddenly a thought struck him. "…Will I be waiting thousands of years before I have my revenge?"

"…." Frowning, Bakura withdrew the knife slightly, putting the sharp tip of it to his lips in thought. "…. Yes.."

The Thief King… wasn't sure what to make of that. "… He never said that."

"It's more time to plan. To let the hatred grow." A bullshit answer, but it sounded good. Though he continued to keep a straight face, he frowned internally.

"I don't want time!" The Thief snarled. "I want to have my revenge _now!_"

"Good things come to those who wait." He murmured idly, though brought the knife back to his face. "Now quiet yourself."

With the knife in his face, of course the Thief had little choice in the matter. Growling, he shut his mouth.

"…Weirder than I thought to see you…" He murmured to himself. Bakura had thought it would be a walk in the park, all business. But he was somehow feeling almost pity amongst the hatred. Huh.

The Thief swallowed, his eyes on the knife, small beads of sweat starting to form on his brow. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't exactly walk out of this. Was his future truly inescapable?

"Everything you've been through…" Bakura murmured, tracing his facial scar with the knife, hand in his hair holding steady. "Plus another three thousand years. And then you turn into me."

He grit his teeth uncomfortably as his sensitive scar tissue was teased with the tip. "Sounds dandy…" He hissed.

"Heh, and all that instinctive hatred… Just imagine when you're fused with pure hatred. You will be capable of unspeakable evil…" He suddenly scowled, pressing the knife into his cheek, drawing a drop of blood. "You're so _weak_ in comparison…"

"Ngh-!" He squirmed at the sudden nip of the knife. This man was mad, that was certain. He clenched his fists, hoping that the tirade would be over soon. He wasn't sure yet what he would do if it weren't.

"….. _Ugh. _Do something. Challenge me. Contest my implication of your weakness!" Bakura growled. "I don't want to remember myself as a whimpering little sycophant."

"You're sending mixed signals here, jackass," he growled.

"I'm well aware," he snapped, digging the knife into his cheek a little more. "Just do it."

"Wouldn't _that_ be sycophantic, in itself? I'd be obeying your order to disobey."

"…" Bakura withdrew his knife and slapped him hard across the face.

"-!" The Thief's head fell to the side at that, a red mark forming at the side of his face. He growled softly.

"…." Growling back, Bakura slapped him a second time and used the grip in his hair t tilt his head painfully back, crushing their lips together in an attempt to steal back some of the innocence of a life fresh on the earth and to transfer some of his own bitter hatred to cleanse himself of it. "…."

The Thief King's cry from the second slap was quickly muffled by the sudden smashing of his lips against the foreign, icy ones. His eyes widened, shocked to the point where he couldn't even respond for a moment. "?"

Growling against the lips, he took a few moments before breaking away, and slammed his forearm into his windpipe, glowering. "….."

Which of course left him falling back and gasping for air. He snarled angrily up at him as he struggled to catch his breath. "What… the _hell_?"

Bakura sneered. "So innocent compared to me. Do you feel how tainted I bloody am?" He growled, doing it again just for a moment. "The blood of hundreds- of ten times our home! You'll go through so much to avenge them… And we're almost there. _Finally_ almost there." Bakura's eyes were narrowed in displaced anger, hate for so many things.

He snarled in frustration. "Shut up! Why are you telling me this! What good will it do me to hear! I'm… I'm getting so confused!" He clutched his head, trying to clear his muddled mind.

"GOOD. Revel in the confusion! It doesn't get any easier, my friend. That confusion is your new way of life." Bakura growled with a smirk, a wild, dark amusement in his eyes. "Are you done living, King of Thieves?" He sneered. "Done with the rough life of scrambling for your next meal?"

He clenched his fists, grabbing onto the black shoulders and smashing their lips together. This time _he_ was determined to shove his confusion and frustration in the bastard's face. Literally.

"Mn-!" Glaring, he ripped away from him, but stood nose to nose, arm pressed to the thief's chest to keep him pinned back. "…Heh. I can take all that confusion and anger away, you know." He almost whispered, more sly, the anger and frustration masked."

He panted angrily, glaring at the strange man. "You mean you want to manipulate me."

"I want to release you," Bakura clarified, grinning again. "I want to make this all go away…"

The Thief glared. "I couldn't even recognize you—recognize myself. You're right; you _will_ make everything go away… You'll practically erase me from existence."

"I'll make you a demigod," he purred, restraining him to lean in to his ear. "Immortal. Able to do everything and anything until the time comes for blood vengeance. Just close your eyes and give in; be your destiny…~"

He squirmed, the breath against his ear surprisingly hot. "Anything under the sun… except get my revenge?"

He shook his head. "No… Biding your time. That's why I'm here. _I'm_ getting our revenge…" He breathed in his ear, smirk evident in voice. "And you will too if you just _give in…_"

When he could feel his ear growing hot at the disarmingly soft breath continually puffing against him, he bit onto his tongue to bring himself back. No. He would not lose sense of himself. "You haven't done it _yet." _He countered.

"I waited for the Pharaoh…." He grinned, even nipping his ear to be sure he had his full attention. "I came here before I put my plan in action. Because I need you for this to work. Without you, nothing will change."

The Thief King grit his teeth at the nip, his concentration on_ not_ losing concentration momentarily lost. "…Why? Where do I fit into this?"

"You are the main event. You will take on everyone. You will murder priests and convert those on the inside to our side. You will collect the items… I will just be doing mental manipulation and distract anyone in our way…" He was pressed in close, but pulled back to meet his eyes again, grinning widely. "You and I can finally win."

The Thief swallowed, the chilled body pressed against his practically nude one. The promises intoxicated him, like perfumes meaning to choke you. "… What if I were to try to refuse?"

"Then you will die. And our home will have burned for nothing. Because without you, I have nothing but an hourglass." He reached up and touched the scar on his face apologetically, flipped completely from the aggressive, angry man he was just minutes ago. It was a startling change, making the Thief flinch instinctively at the touch.

And for the third time, Bakura forced their lips together, the physical form of the promises, and hopefully with the lesser intensity, a way to calm him and keep him from doubting. He was running out of time.

The Thief grunted as his lips were crushed against once again, but he seemed a little less blindsided this time. He squirmed in his restraints, but kissed right back. It was the seductive, near impossible to escape from kind of kiss. It held promise, power, and pleasure. He wanted it _all…_

Pulling back after sufficient time to absorb the information and implication of the kiss, Bakura grinned at him with that sly glint in his eye. "What do you say, King of Thieves~?"

He swallowed, licking his lips in an effort to keep the taste in his mouth. "…I…" he stammered.

Lifting the Ring and pressing the cold metal into his bare chest, Bakura smirked as it clearly stirred. Take the power. The means. The sweet taste of satisfaction so long evaded you… **Take it.**"

The King of Thieves swallowed so heavily it felt as though it were lead. But for Ra's sake, what else was he to do? He already belonged to the Dark One. This was a mere formality. He would be a fool to attempt to fight it. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he touched the edges of the cold metal.

The seductive grin and tint to his voice died away, replaced by a much darker tone, crimson eyes burning again. "Hah! … Hahahahah!" As soon as the fingers touched the metal, there was no going back. It took only a simple motion to flip the rope from Bakura's neck to the Thief's, the ring suddenly glowing a bright yellow as the beginnings of absolute possession took hold. "Yes!" Bakura cried, a fist clenching and held up in victory. "Feel that, Thief?" He looked at him almost wildly again. "We're almost there!" He cried in dark glee, starting to fade away. "Hahahah!"

His eyes grew wide, raw fear he had not felt since he watched his village torn upon gripping his spine. He stiffened, much like a corpse, and felt his body begin to bask in a strange, but terrible sensation. His body trembled; his lavender eyes were wide.

"We win and you'll be back," he grinned, mostly transparent, disappearing in correlation with the increasing of that strange sensation. "Until then…" he whispered, pressing into him and starting to actually fuse into him. "You are _**mine.**_"

The King of Thieves was suddenly feeling less like the King of Thieves. In fact, he was feeling barely like anything at all. His body went a cold numb as he felt Bakura grow closer and closer to him. He was losing control of even the most basic of movements, forced to merely stop and stare, as though he were merely watching a play.

Soon, though, the numbing feeling passed as the life returned to the limbs, or perhaps new life appeared altogether. The Thief King, Bakura, looked about. Although it was the same body by all accounts, and the same man, even by physical standards he was different. Every angle seemed sharper, more daunting. His eyes shined with a cruelty like never before, anger trembled within his very bones. With a grin, the "new" Bakura stretched, a hand brushing against the cold Ring, and feeling its presence, he began to walk out of the hut and into the desert night.

Let the games begin.


End file.
